<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Take Him Mad by sun_incarnate</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24666418">Take Him Mad</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sun_incarnate/pseuds/sun_incarnate'>sun_incarnate</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Divine, Once Again [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Boyz (Korea Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Haknyeon as Dionysus, Intoxication, M/M, includes a short discussion about religion and beliefs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:15:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,363</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24666418</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sun_incarnate/pseuds/sun_incarnate</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hands opened by his grapevines, jaw slack and mouth opened showing a tongue stained with his reddest fruits, shoulders down and relaxed in the face of the pleasure that reverberates through the air smelling so heavily of grapewine it's a wonder how one can't be drunk from the scent of it alone. </p><p>Haknyeon grins mad at the sight of the look in Sunwoo's body language.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ju Haknyeon/Kim Sunwoo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Divine, Once Again [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1783480</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>70</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Take Him Mad</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>- DIONYSOS (Dionysus) was the Olympian god of wine, vegetation, pleasure, festivity, madness and wild frenzy. <a href="https://www.theoi.com/Olympios/Dionysos.html">Source.</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>When Sunwoo wandered into one of Haknyeon's parties, his eyes had been unlike any others'.</p><p>Of course, there's the occasional someone who'd come along and stand unaffected even by the madness reflecting unto every surface around him—especially the eyes, Haknyeon had had years to learn that aberration shows best in one's eyes—but it had been so long since the last one.</p><p>Was probably centuries or eons ago, Haknyeon's unsure, and not really paying attention to recalling.</p><p>So although he should have been used to it, Haknyeon had felt the little itch on his nape that comes with him being surprised. Just what is it that blocks this stranger's mind, this that safeguards his saneness with a hold so strong not even the god of madness could have swayed him? Thus, instead of the usual mortals that had been drawn to the energy of his ...<em>events</em>, it had been Haknyeon who was gravitated to <em>him</em>.</p><p>It had been Haknyeon who was judged to be killed, he's the cat and the leopard and all things feline mere moments from pouncing to satisfy his curiosity.</p><p> </p><p>It had been an arid day, followed by an even dryer evening that had hazed the want for anything comfortably cold to whoever passed by the front of Haknyeon's club.</p><p><em>Dionysiac</em>, he's named it, and could only laugh at the way customers come in because they've associated the name to his club alone. As if the title belongs only to the glasses and shots and the drinks they never bothered to know the name of before downing. But might as well be, now that Haknyeon thinks of it, because he'd found out that whenever one longs to drink then there's an equal amount of desire to forget.</p><p>He's happy nonetheless, offering his halfway-to-widest smiles and helping people forget order and harmony even though most of them would say that they'd settle only for a sole glass. </p><p>Haknyeon serves as the bartender, even if people think low of the job. There's probably an unwritten rule that says an owner should hire others to face his business' patrons while he fattens himself through the labor of others, and it's one that he disregards. Which is why they'd double-take at the glint of his pin, tacked onto the breast of his shirts where it'd catch the light and bounce back <em>Dionysus, Owner</em> to whoever chooses to look at it.</p><p>When he spies them flushing at the memory of whatever rude commentary they've made about low-wage workers before they'd seen his pin, Haknyeon would offer them another glass of whatever-whiskey and say that they owe him the sight of them dancing, to which they'd comply to as if entranced.</p><p>(And they are, from the moment they've opened the door, because to come to Haknyeon is to invite him to slowly crush the walls of your mind. When they meet his eyes, Haknyeon sees a glimpse of why they need to forget. When they watch him prepare their drinks, Haknyeon breathes their way and lets his divinity mix with the air they take in.</p><p>This is how Haknyeon draws them in, and how he takes what his immortality needs for it to be sustained. This is how Dionysus stays a god.)</p><p> </p><p>Which is when he notices the man, who's occupied the seat that's been vacated when she who chose to follow Haknyeon's suggestion to dance had just left.</p><p>The way he slid onto the seat is calm, and Haknyeon would have been offended had he not gotten curious as to why he can't feel the usual hastened beating of hearts from customers.</p><p>When<em> he</em> looks up to say <em>gin-and-tonic</em>, Haknyeon succeeds in meeting his eyes. And that should have done the trick, should have made this man's whole being Haknyeon's for the night, but for some reason he feels nothing when by now he should have heard the addition of another erratic pulse layering to the bass from the speakers.</p><p>He tries for a wider smile, godhood radiating from him in quiet waves but potent enough so that he'd felt everybody inside his club shiver from the pleasure of it alone.</p><p><em>Why won't you take it?</em> He eyes the man before him, who's attention had shifted to the wedge of lime that drifts aimlessly atop his drink, with what space the narrow body of the glass had offered. <em>Is freedom for a night not enough pleasure for you? </em></p><p>Haknyeon soon grows tired of the man's inattention, so he pays attention to his other patrons, admitting to himself that he'd almost forgotten of them in his focus to bend the man's will. It's better that he stops, he thinks to himself, because what dominion he has over madness is useless when he's gone too much too far. He'd never want a repeat of when eons ago he'd led his maenads across countries in one of the greatest displays of what power the want for freedom holds, even if he does long for those days still.</p><p>For that is the truth of it, was it not? Had there been no existing desire to be free of what mortality mankind had been granted with, there would not have been anything left for Haknyeon to rule over.</p><p>He is here not to question the validity of reason, after all, but perhaps to be curious as to why things work the way they did. </p><p>Dionysiac ritual was what books nowadays call all of his gatherings. Others, Bacchanalia; to which he could only barely hold the urge to scoff and smite, as if freedom of the body is expressed in the simplicity of sexual acts alone. Such a mortal concept, desires so earthly it's no wonder they've never reached godliness. How do they think so low of true freedom, the fire of pure <em>being</em>? How have humans looked at the stars and not felt the feverish desperation to be as eternal and unbound by any law as them?  </p><p><em>How indeed</em>, Haknyeon muses as he drifts back to where the man who's captivated him is.</p><p>He has his head turned slightly to the direction of the dancefloor, raised by a foot from the rest of the club's flooring and flooded by bodies shameless in the way they mingle and move together. But the angle is off, so his head isn't fully facing towards the people, and Haknyeon can still see the way the man's right eyebrow is raised at the sight.</p><p>
  <em>Does he not want to join them?</em>
</p><p>And for his power had done nothing before, Haknyeon decides that he'd have to be involved even more directly. Huffing at this thought, he considers the atmosphere to find the right time to strike. He'd never had to go so far as to convince someone with words, often his drinks and gaze had proven to be enough.</p><p>But this man before him reeks of discipline, of the mortal inclination to harmony and order that runs strong and so deep not even an ancient god as Haknyeon could have hoped to dismantle at first try. <em>Anyway</em>, Haknyeon pushes back the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, <em>no challenge is to be unwelcomed in my presence.</em></p><p>"Wouldn't you want to?" </p><p>The man looks to him, head turning slow as if hesitating to tear his eyes away from the dances. <em>So there's a little bit of want in you still, then.</em></p><p>"Want to what?" The man, now whole body facing him, swirls the drink in his hand so the ice clinks against the glass. Before, his gaze had been downward, so now when he looks back up to Haknyeon his eyes show through his lashes. If he had been affected easy by this, Haknyeon could have sworn he's being seducted.</p><p>"Be with them, dancing without care," he replies, struggling to keep his divinity at bay. He has to win this man in only one way, and if he ends up not having him, is he really still powerful enough to keep his name?</p><p>The man chuckles deep, evident in the way his shoulders shake at the effort of holding his laugh in, although Haknyeon could not remember a thing he's said that deserves to be made fun of. At this his eyebrows draw together, feeling the pinch of skin and flesh as a crease forms between them at his confusion. </p><p>"I have no need for dancing, Mister—" the man trails off, eyes glazed over with the alcohol of his drink but kept focused if only to read Haknyeon's name on his pin—"Dionysus. Huh." </p><p>It is then that he seems to notice the place, eyes fleeting but taking in details across surfaces and bodies and everything else that for a second Haknyeon fears that this man will see through the misty glamour he'd spread to hide what mortals might consider abnormal. To their own, at least, the definition of the word just as it is. <em>Not normal to their eyes</em>, Haknyeon thinks as the man's eyes pass over the satyrs flocked to one booth. </p><p>As he takes in the details, Haknyeon's eyes take <em>him</em> in instead. Is his hair really this red, or is it the doing of the lights he'd installed to create the bar's atmosphere? And the jaw that shows as the man tilts his head to look at the lights is jutting, attractive in the way it slopes and curves. Crisp black shirt, a button popped open, collarbones glimpsing; Haknyeon is reminded of the way his maenads used to bare their throats to him, as if in subordination to his godhead.</p><p>So trusting of his will, so <em>for him alone</em> to claim, for his madness to take control of. Haknyeon almost reaches for the man's throat, if only to feel for himself the vulnerability that he's being offered the taste of. </p><p>His hand had been on its way to touching, fingers and palm already shaped to curve against the form of the man's neck; but as he's about to close his hands around it, the man's eyes look at his. </p><p>Had Haknyeon not been busy in attempting to rein his thoughts of frenzy in, he'd have gotten worked up at the audacity of him to meet his eyes first. A chill through his spine, one he hasn't felt in centuries, intrigue and curiosity mixing to form the richest wine that'd make him go heady with how pure the taste of it is.</p><p>
  <em>How dare he, how dare he meet my eyes and not be so entranced and captivated as I am with him. </em>
</p><p>So instead he brings down his hand and pretends to extend it to shake the man's, as if meeting him for the first time and wanting a good impression to last. As if, because saying that it's a first means that there'd be seconds and thirds. Which is near impossible, because the only choice his power gives his patrons is for them to stay or to leave. One could stay for years, of course, Haknyeon knows there's someone somewhere in the crowd that's been here since the last century. There again, hand extended all formal, and he gets a raised eyebrow in response. </p><p>"<em>Dionysus</em>, owner of this place—" the man deadpans at him, and his smile widens a little bit more—"Or Haknyeon, if you're not into myths." </p><p>"Can't say I'm not into them, Greek Mythology's finer than most religions spread about," he replies, voice rougher than some but not surprising to Haknyeon. "Sunwoo, and very much interested as to why you've named this place as such." </p><p>Sunwoo grasps his hand, his hold firm and confident. Haknyeon falls for and loves the playfulness, and the willingness to play with a god, even if Sunwoo probably thinks he's just playing to the act. Name a club Dionysiac, <em>of Dionysus</em>, so of course the owner would be named after the god. The hilarity of the truth behind the jest is too much to keep in, so Haknyeon lets a little of it out as he grins.</p><p>"Why, the atmosphere I wanted my club to embody, of course." Haknyeon presses closer, leaning across the marble of the countertop to make Sunwoo feel the true weight of his next words. "Do you not feel the madness?" </p><p>Sunwoo's eyes take on the glint from all the lights above him, as if challenged to a duel and excited at the prospect of emerging victorious. </p><p>"By madness, you mean the graceless dancing? Inane movements unharmonious to the music?" Sunwoo matches Haknyeon's actions and pushes forward, forearms folded and braced over the counter. </p><p>How Haknyeon grows annoyed at the brash cockiness this man has, and how he's attracted to it all the same. Confidence frees people from fear's hold, and Haknyeon is no one but a lover of everything unrestricted by laws. <em>He doesn't even know of the things I can do to him. </em></p><p>He can feel the smirk that stretches his lips as his hand circles around the body of Sunwoo's drink, bringing the glass up to press the edge of it against the other's lips all the while maintaining eye contact.</p><p>If he pushes a bit of his divinity into the action so that it flows to Sunwoo, then that's his own secret to keep.</p><p>"I mean the want to be free, Sunwoo. Tell me—"and Sunwoo seems to be opening up to him, eyes <em>finally</em> starting to truly glaze over the same moment he parts his lips to drink from what Haknyeon offers—"don't you feel the desperation around you?"</p><p>The wedge of lime bumps against his lips, and Sunwoo's throat moves to swallow the bitterness of the drink. He's still braving the weight of Haknyeon's stares, and the god can't help but be bewildered of just how much this man's will pushes against his own.</p><p>He's never met someone like Sunwoo before, and his revels had never been so ineffective in the energy they give off. The wilful way Sunwoo seems to act unknowingly upon calls to the gold in Haknyeon's blood, the part of him that's half god and burning so bright with the light of all the stars that mortals could never hope to survive a look at his true form, even for just a moment. </p><p>The sweet smell of unseasonal fruits overtakes the previous scent of alcohol that's usually permeated the space of his club.</p><p>Haknyeon can feel grapevines snaking under the counter, can feel them responding to his call for power and authority. The columns that lined against the walls are being creeped on by vines and greeneries, and there's a cornucopia that appears next to the bottles on the shelves, one that visibly shakes in its effort to not flood the place with harvest and bounty.</p><p>When the vine that's curled across Haknyeon's thigh had grown heavy, he reaches down to pluck a grape from a bunch. He breaks eye contact to look at it and is almost ashamed at the way he must have looked like he was backing down from a simple contest of staring, but the surprise that paints Sunwoo's eyes when he looks back up is far more rewarding.</p><p>It's almost bursting with his blessing, the skin of the fruit glossy and smooth. <em>Perfected so and deserving to be of my wine.</em></p><p>He presses the grape to Sunwoo's lips and takes delight in the fact that both things are plump enough to hold his attention for a few seconds. </p><p>Haknyeon <em>feels</em> it, the moment he's been waiting for ever since Sunwoo proved to be someone hard-headed enough to go against a god even without his knowledge of it. Sunwoo is opening up, the walls of his resolve already crumbling in the face of Haknyeon's influence.</p><p>Now, it is in him where the decision lies: to hold back and not shatter this man's mind completely, or to lose himself in the drunk feeling of euphoric power?</p><p>There's a tremor he sees on Sunwoo's lips, so he decides to hold back a little. There's nothing fun if he's already maddened crazy when the party's only just started.</p><p>"For I <em>know</em> what you want, Sunwoo. I am intimate with it. I know how you've pursued pride, how you've ran after the goals you've set for yourself. And aren't you—" Sunwoo opens his mouth and Haknyeon pushes the fruit past his lips, pushes his thumb into the heat of Sunwoo's mouth to press the fruit against the surface of his tongue—"aren't you desperate to be free of the burden?"</p><p>There's an answer to that that lies just past the initial fog of Sunwoo's mind, the harmony of it now starting to be marred by confusion and befuddlement. But Haknyeon will need to hesitate and think before pushing to reach past it, no matter what want he may have for the answers.</p><p>There's a crowd to manage even if his purpose is to let them loose. God or no, a rowdy establishment could never be good for business.</p><p>Sunwoo leans forward and Haknyeon removes his finger from his mouth, choosing to temporarily break the trance and first deal with the heaviness in the air that came from his want to dominate. </p><p>Those at the edge of the dancing crowd had started to look back and stray towards the bar. Foreheads wrinkled and mouths frowning, they've heard the call and have wanted to come nearer even though they know the pipe Haknyeon has blown isn't for their ears, which explains the confusion they display so blatantly on their faces.</p><p>He clenches his fist and the music goes louder, enticing the crowd back to their bubbles of frenzy and effectively leaving him to be alone with Sunwoo.</p><p>In the still air of the now undisturbed bar, Haknyeon is relieved that he still has the power over his revel. He, for a second or two, had doubted his hold over his own festivity when his drink had had no effect on Sunwoo at first, and it had terrified him more than what harmful oaths the Queen of Olympus has declared to endanger him in the past.</p><p>"But you've asked me a question, and you've swallowed fruit born from my own crop. So answers are to be given, even if I may have looked uncaring of morals or etiquette." </p><p>Sunwoo turns his head away from him and smells the air, seemingly startled at the scent of fresh fruits and wine. Throat to Haknyeon yet again, but he doesn't look like he realizes the effect he has.</p><p>"What question, Haknyeon? I can't remember ever asking for anything." His eyebrows draw closer together, textbook confusion showing as he struggles to get ahold of himself.</p><p>He looks to his now empty glass, to the lime that floats above melted ice. "What was in that drink? Why's everything hazy? Did you drug me?" </p><p>Haknyeon could only scoff at the accusation, taking it as a personal blow, for it's an insult to think that he'd ever need the assistance of drugs or of any chemically-engineered substances to ensnare mortals.</p><p>He shakes his head as a response and pretends to look at something beyond Sunwoo's shoulder, just so he has an excuse to go beyond the barriers of personal space and lean in to the space beside his face.</p><p>So, when his mouth is right beside Sunwoo's ear and close enough that he'd surely feel the heat from his words, Haknyeon says low, "Didn't you want to know of <em>madness</em>?"</p><p>He feels him shiver at the way he's let the words hang in the air, and he goes back to his own space, turning to prepare drinks for both of them. Satisfied with the show of his effect on him, Haknyeon refrains from where he's about to pour some of his own wine to Sunwoo's glass. If he so much as ingests one drop of it, there'd be no going back to his sanity.</p><p>Shame, really, for there'd never be wine of greater flavor than this that he pours into his own glass. </p><p>For he'd decided to drink with him, to sit and talk and to truly pay attention. The state of his club he'll keep and worry for in his subconscious, if only to focus completely on Sunwoo alone. </p><p>He drags a chair to his space and settles, sliding Sunwoo's drink atop the countertop. The other catches it right before it's about to drop off the edge, and the liquid inside is disturbed by the action. A few drops escape from the glass and trail down onto the hand that holds it, and the glass is then transferred to another hand so Sunwoo could lick off the spilt drink with an open-mouthed kiss on his skin.</p><p>He does all this while Haknyeon looks at him. <em>He doesn't even know of the privilege he's being given. A drink with the god of madness and wine? </em></p><p>He's drunk from Haknyeon's offer, ate fruit from the god's fingers, and if the crowd—that's getting more unruly by every minute they spend on the dancefloor and music and god-blessing, but not like Haknyeon would stop them sooner than they're due—would only know of just who it is mixes their drinks, there'd be a lot of explaining to do.</p><p>To Olympus and its council of gods, of course, because mortal laws could not hope to hold Haknyeon. His maenads, after all, had had a reputation of being crazed and frenzied enough to not hold back from violence, mild or bloody otherwise.</p><p>"So, what is it about our mythology that attracts you so?" He opens, tone challenging Sunwoo to comment on the way his wording implies to own the culture, that he's a part of its system.</p><p>And he's rewarded a reaction, albeit it being nonverbal, as Sunwoo raises an eyebrow in inquisition. It isn't enough to satisfy him, but they've got all night to talk. <em>Or maybe forever, if he chooses to stay with me</em>, Haknyeon thinks as he takes careful sips of his wine.</p><p>"I'm gonna be frank with you, sir,—" Sunwoo points a finger at him, but it's shaking a bit—"I think your club is wonderful. I do, really. But I'm already a little drunk even if I remember my tolerance to be higher than some, so I don't think a conversation like this would end up nice.</p><p>I apologize in advance if I may happen to say something greatly wrong, forgive me if only for the fact that I'm already slurring my words. Though, you can be assured that I will be honest with my opinions of it." And he honest to god bows, forehead almost thumping against the countertop the same time a particularly heavy beat of bass rings through the air, and Haknyeon laughs bright at the timing. </p><p>"But yes, mythology. Greek," he continues as he lifts his head back up again, ignoring Haknyeon's amusement. "I think it's...appeasing. In a way that's personal, I suppose, because I've never been an overly-pious man, nor would I long to die crucified."</p><p>"You doubt Christianity?" Haknyeon asks, incredulous and a little concerned that Sunwoo would be willing to discuss religious matters and such personal beliefs with a stranger like him.</p><p>"No, no. I don't. I have faith, even if it's not to the amount that my mother would have wanted me to have. I just," he pauses to trail off, fingers tapping the beats of a song only he could hear.</p><p>When he comes back from the deep of his mind, he looks straight at Haknyeon's eyes as he continues, "I just appreciate the way they portray their gods as these beings that are more human than anything else."</p><p>"Human? How so?" It seems as if Haknyeon could do nothing but ask of answers, when it should've been him that does the answering. But this way of thinking differs from most that he's talked to, and it intrigues him so.</p><p>"Human in their mistakes. Human in behavior and reactions and everything but the power they have. There's comfort in that, that one wouldn't find in the worship of someone all-powerful and purely impeccable." </p><p><em>So it is true, of how they say that people speak truer when inebriated. Or</em>, Haknyeon ponders, <em>is Sunwoo this bare and open to everyone he meets? </em></p><p>"And in the way their system works, the architecture, the literature, the art; more than anything, the Greeks themselves are astounding. Love for order and harmony and precise intellect but so, so drawn towards the wildest enthusiasms as if to free themselves from the civility of them as a nation.</p><p>The Romans aren't quiet as captivating to me, more so the Christians. And that quality bleeds onto their mythology, the honesty and fragility of being human," he closes his eyes, pausing to breathe and continuing despite the lack of visibility, "of wanting to not be alone, even though the gods hold in their hands the power to smite right at the moment the slightest of assaults is thrown their way.</p><p>I appreciate it, the bareness and truism that shows through everything from them."</p><p>When he opens his eyes, there's no trace of fear that Haknyeon sees.<em> If he loves the concept this much, then why is he hesitating?</em></p><p>This is where most would have apologized for the possibility of an offense, which Haknyeon would've found cute and endearing of humans, as if they're suddenly clean of every other sin they've committed.</p><p>But Sunwoo pushes forward, unapologetic of his words and opinion and beliefs, proof of what strength Haknyeon had glimpsed of his character from his actions alone. He admires it of him, a character he would have found in the fellow gods he respects most, the surety of one's own stability and attunement to the self.</p><p>"So what of you, Haknyeon. -Ssi? -Nim? You answer, why take on the name of a god known for frenzy and freeing madness? This is to assume, sorry—" and he faces both palms to Haknyeon's direction, flat in what is probably a placating gesture for his bravery to put words in Haknyeon's mouth before he's even thought to utter them—"but it's much more than because it's a place to drink at, isn't it?" </p><p>If Haknyeon had had the gift over time, he would have stilled this moment. Feeling the need to take everything in, he stalls with a smile and a swig from his wine but one so prolonged that he's drained his glass when he chooses to finish. </p><p>"Just Haknyeon. I'm not that particular with formalities." He's aware of the headiness that flows alongside the ichor in his bloodstream, and the mist it covers his eyes with is enough for him to follow his recklessness in wanting to down another glassful of his wine.</p><p>So he gets up to take the whole bottle and sets it between him and Sunwoo, refilling his glass as he thinks of what to say.</p><p>"Do you want to know? Would you really want to see why?" And a nod faced to him, eager to finally see reason. <em>Funny how you admire us for it, when it's you who so desperately looks to be needing of freedom.</em> </p><p>Haknyeon brings up his glass, positioned so that his eyes show just above the rim of it, so his mania shows through and affects those who look upon his power. Which, in this case and moment, is the man who sits before him.</p><p>"I am <em>he</em>, Sunwoo." The wine in his glass shimmers and glows a weak gold, but the shine of it growing stronger every second he spends wanting to finally break this beautiful mind that moves him to the point of abandoning control.</p><p>A scream starts from the crowd behind Sunwoo, one of glee at the feeling that's sure to have come from Haknyeon in stronger waves than before.</p><p>The music is now sonorous in its beating, flowing smooth and rich like the finest drinks served from Olympus' own reserves. Satyrs come up to dance with the humans, the occasional nymphs called by his power from the ancient lands now slipping in between sweat-slick bodies. Their hairs tangle and so do their limbs, maddened enough to not care for bruises and scratches as they meet.</p><p>Feline purrs echo through but faint in their softness; his panthers and leopards, Dionysus' favored beasts on their way through parting the crowd. The lights change, now a golden-red that reveals the true bloody hue of Sunwoo's hair, the color of it warm against the radiance of the tan his skin sports.</p><p>Goosebumps litter his skin, and the grapevines from beneath the countertop crawl and snake in their way, unrestricted and let to do as they please. </p><p><em>Which is to hold Sunwoo, it would seem</em>. As the vines start curling on the other's fingers, Haknyeon couldn't help but enjoy the amusement that settles in his chest. His eyes are sure to be golden by now, with the greatest display of his power that his club has seen; they're all that Sunwoo could look at, never minding the frenzy happening behind him.</p><p>Barely an inkling of Haknyeon's true prowess, a far cry from what his first maenads had witnessed and celebrated with, but he's happy to have them taste a drop of his purest nature.</p><p>"Did you think this was an act? Did you think of me as an actor, stealing names and playing a character?" </p><p>Haknyeon braces his palms on the countertop to lift his body, his name falling from chanting tongues in a cry of worship. </p><p><em>Worshippers</em>, he realizes as he sits before Sunwoo, atop the bar's counter. Legs splayed and positioned on each side of Sunwoo, who now looks up to him <em>still meeting his eyes.</em></p><p>Haknyeon's glad that the godliness that shines through them is not enough to burn those that so much as takes a glance. He doesn't know if the other's too out of it to realize his stupidity or if he's just as brave as the greatest heroes that Haknyeon's once lived with. </p><p>"I am the god of harvests, of wild frenzy, of the wine you drank from the grape I offered. Now, how could you not know?"</p><p>Eyes hooded bearing the heaviness of the atmosphere that the god's made as an answer to his question of <em>why's</em>, Haknyeon grins mad at the sight of the look in Sunwoo's body language. Hands opened by his grapevines, jaw slack and mouth opened showing a tongue stained with his reddest fruits.</p><p>Shoulders down and relaxed in the face of the pleasure that reverberates through the air smelling so heavily of grapewine it's a wonder how one can't be drunk from the scent of it alone.</p><p>Haknyeon's hand finally comes up to touch and shape against the form of Sunwoo's throat. <em>One thing missing now.</em></p><p>He moves his hand to clutch at the back of Sunwoo's neck, other hand tangling carding through wine-red hair dampened from sweat as the club heats up.</p><p>The movement flows through his body, and the pin in his chest catches light. Sunwoo's attention is stolen by the glint, thieved by the <em>Dionysus</em> lettered on it, so Haknyeon pulls at his hair.</p><p>At that, Sunwoo refocuses on his eyes, the god not understanding the meaning behind the uplift of his lips that shows a smirk where he would've expected fear to line it trembling. Unshaken and seemingly peaceful if not for the fact that Haknyeon had recognized the craze in his eyes. </p><p>
  <em>Headstrong through and through, are you sure you aren't a god yourself? </em>
</p><p>How Haknyeon has longed for this, to <em>finally</em> be given what he's born to have. Another pull at Sunwoo's hair has him baring his neck, baring his throat, <em>all for me to take and lay claim to</em>, wishing that he'd been more potent for Sunwoo to be so vulnerable such as this from the moment they've met, if only so he'd have more time to be intoxicated with it.</p><p>Sunwoo palms his thighs and moves closer, and Haknyeon could only laugh at the action. </p><p>"<em>Tell me</em>," Haknyeon starts, not stopping himself from feeling the heat of Sunwoo against his own mouth, against lips tasting of bitter gin and sweeter wine, whispering rough, "<em>do you not feel the madness?</em>"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ive started reading donna tartt's the secret history and i am enamored with the way julian taught his students of how greeks and romans differ in their willingness to look outside the boundaries of perfection. </p><p>some aspects of this work are heavily-influenced by the book itself, but i havent finished reading it so i wouldnt be recommending it yet. </p><p><a href="https://mobile.twitter.com/jjukyus">my twt!</a>  <a href="https://curiouscat.qa/kyuisms">my curiouscat!</a><br/> </p><p>also !!! thank you to clars for never tiring of me and my words ! love you !!</p><p>bffie made a fanart of haknyeon <a href="https://twitter.com/riz_owo/status/1271657872276013061?s=19">here!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>